In his arms, I felt like a rare, wild, magic thing, like a feral animal captured, source of constant curiosity and boundless fascination. All I was in the moment was a heartbeat, a pair of eyes, staring. No thoughts. No real feeling. Feeling indefinable.
I felt like a mermaid lifted up in a net. Something unseen, undiscovered. Or a tiger in a world where there are no tigers. Exotic, proud. I felt myself grinning like a naughty thing.
In his arms, no shame, no guilt, no judgement. No cynicism. No before. No after. A natural thing. Uncomplicated.
In the kiss is fire. Dull, dim fire. The ancient fire of men and women.
In his touch is stability, strength, grounding. He is the tree and I am the eagle that lands upon him. He is the mountain and I am the wild horse that runs. He is the ground I traverse.
Everyone should feel rare, wild, magic.
In our eyes is understanding. Not war. Not hostility. Tranquillity, serenity. Opposite meets opposite. We could never argue. Too much sensibility.
And the moments I craved. I asked, “I want to feel alive. I don’t want boredom, mediocrity, those things will kill me. I want to feel alive. Don’t you too? We can make each other feel that way”.
They say there are no miracles, but what a man and woman can make each other feel is a miracle. On an unexpected, ordinary day, I saw his eyes and knew, he could make me feel alive, and I said “I can make you feel that way too”.
So together we felt like rare, wild, magic things. And once we parted, we still kept that feeling.